What I found most interesting about Salman Rushdie’s film review and analysis of The Wizard of Oz, “Out of Kansas,” was his comparison of an American classic to the typical Bollywood style of film common during his childhood. My roommate, a girl from Lucknow, India, has gotten me into Bollywood movies (albeit more current ones than Rushdie was referencing, but the Indian flair for the dramatic is the same) so I found the parallels immediately intriguing. This unique perspective adds dimension to Rushdie’s analysis, because someone born and raised in America would likely never think to compare a film like Oz to Bollywood movies; after all, the two seem to be polar opposites. My memory of Oz is foggy, and I’m not entirely sure I ever saw the whole thing in one sitting, but when I think of the film, the last thing I’d compare it to is the typical Bollywood movie. Yet, as Rushdie put it,
“… gods descending from the heavens to meddle in human affairs, superheroes, demonic villains, and so on, have always been the staple diet of the Indian filmgoer. Blond Glinda arriving at Munchkinland in her magic bubble might cause Dorothy to comment on the high speed and oddity of the local transport operating in Oz, but to an Indian audience Glinda was arriving exactly as a god should arrive: ex machina, out of her own machine. The Wicked Witch of the West’s orange smoke puffs were equally appropriate to her super-bad status.”
When put that way, it makes sense why Oz was originally “an oddball” in America but fit right in in India; a relatively small comparison speaks volumes about the differences between the two cultures. This both helped me see The Wizard of Oz in a new light, but adds to my enjoyment of Bollywood movies by pointing out patterns that I’d missed. For example, Rushdie pointed out that Bollywood movies have a heavy element of Hinduism, of religion in general, that Oz lacks, which he said
“… greatly increases the film’s charm, and is an important aspect of its success in creating a world in which nothing is deemed more important than the loves, cares, and needs of human beings…”
Before reading this, I’d given little thought to the real “meaning” behind Oz; it was simply a movie I’d seen as a child that had given me nightmares about flying monkeys and melting witches. Rushdie’s analysis peels back the layers and exposes how the small elements of the film, its lack of religion included, contribute to its overall message about growing up and taking control of your own destiny. Though this movie wasn’t a large part of my childhood, Rushdie’s essay has helped me understand just how powerful an impression this message could have on a child.
Even while analyzing the film, Rushdie gave the reader small peeks into his character and personal life by talking about how he perceived the film when he was young. The clearest example of this can be found in how he begins and ends the piece: by talking about his father in comparison to the Wizard, and then himself. In the beginning, after talking about the disappointment he felt as a boy, finding out that the father he thought was all-powerful was just a human being, he says:
“I have begun with these personal reminiscences because “The Wizard of Oz” is a film whose driving force is the inadequacy of adults, even of good adults; a film that shows us how the weakness of grownups forces children to take control of their own destinies, and so, ironically, grow up themselves.”
He then launches seamlessly into film analysis, then circles back to this idea at the end. This time, though, he compares himself to the Wizard, and leaves the reader with final thoughts about Rushdie’s character, the movie, and the state of humanity:
“And this is the last and most terrible lesson of the film: that there is one final, unexpected rite of passage. In the end, ceasing to be children, we all become magicians without magic, exposed conjurers, with only our simple humanity to get us through.”
While watching The Wizard of Oz, we think we are being entertained, but Rushdie shows us that there’s many layers to the film. Similarly, while reading “Out of Kansas,” we think we’re reading a film analysis, when really we’re learning the life lessons we missed while watching the glitter of Dorothy’s ruby shoes.